Remnant
by Ennya
Summary: For a brief, blessed time, life had order once again. You thought it was over. Jane did too. Sequel to Housekeeping. TDK.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Dark Knight or anything pertaining to Batman. I do not make any money writing this story.

**A/N: **Hey guys! I was so blown away by the excitement in the feedback I received for the teaser/trailer at the end of Housekeeping. I'm so happy you guys are excited for this sequel, and I can't wait to hear what you think. **If you haven't already read Housekeeping **you should probably do that first, as both stories are first person narration.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Remnant**

**Chapter One**

**/**

It was the 15th of the month. I think you know what that means. Old habits die hard.

The bathtub in the guest bathroom wasn't as big as the one in my apartment in the Narrows, nor was it the biggest one in Amy and Matt's apartment, for that matter, but it was newer, not as stained, and it had jets, though I hadn't figured out how to use those yet. Since I moved in, I found myself asking Amy a few times if it was okay if I had a bath, to which she would give me this mortified look and tell me I didn't have to ask every time, that's what the bathtub was there for, sure, go ahead, whatever I wanted.

Whatever I wanted. It was almost surreal.

I stuck my toes out of the bubbles and wiggled them, admiring the pearly blue nail polish on my nails; Amy had a ridiculous collection of damned expensive nail polish, and one of the first nights after I moved in, when Matt was away at some business dinner, we got pizza and sat in our pajamas painting our nails and gossiping, like we were a couple of teenaged girls. I sighed contentedly, lying in the bathtub, while Henry sat on the toilet seat watching me, confused, reaching over every now and then to bat curiously at the bubbles sneaking up over the rim of the tub. If I reached out to pet him with wet fingers, he'd curl his nose and look at me indignantly. Must not get water on his majesty. Then again he could have just wandered off, yet he'd been all but attached to my hip since we moved into the condo, despite the fact it was three times the size of my apartment in the Narrows and I figured he'd disappear for hours on end exploring the place. Curious and curiouser.

Amy knocked on the door before letting herself in; she looked at Henry sitting on the toilet seat, who peered up at her as she came in, and frowned as she turned towards the mirror. "That cat threw up in the pantry again."

I couldn't help but grin; since fleeing with his mother from the Narrows to his aunt's home in high Gotham, his highness had adorned many nicknames, that which included _the cat_, _**that **__cat, that damned cat, that fur thing_. He was rarely addressed by his given name (sometimes Matt called him _Harry, _but mostly just to be a jerk)_. _Amy was not a cat person, and Henry seemed to have it all figured out, taking each and every opportunity to unnerve her in his own little way, and I could tell it was all intentional. Throwing up in the pantry was quickly becoming a favourite, it seemed.

"Sorry," I told her, stifling a laugh as I reached out to pet Henry's head. "I'll clean it up when I'm out."

"Nah, it's okay," she said, dotting her lips with lipstick in the mirror, and I had a flashback to this exact moment, way back when, in our parents house, where I'd be in the bathtub watching Amy put on her makeup as she got ready for the dance, or a date, or something equally glamorous, a habit since early childhood. I think she liked the feeling of having an audience. "I got Matt to take care of it before he left this morning."

It was a delightful thing to think of my dashing brother-in-law cleaning up cat puke in Armani.

Amy peered down at her watch before capping her lipstick. "We should get going soon; who knows what traffic will be like heading into the financial sector."

I nodded. "Okay," and as Amy left the bathroom, closing the door behind her, I gripped both sides of the tub and hoisted myself up to stand and reached for the towel on the rack, still covered in bubbles. Henry watched me and I shook my head at him as I wrapped myself in the towel. "You best watch yourself, mister," I told him, scratching one of his ears. "They're only gonna put it up with that for so long."

Henry gave me a rather dismissive curl of his nose as I grabbed my housecoat and quickly put it on, tying the sash with fingers that were trembling, all of a sudden, and it made me huff and shake my head. Honestly, we were meeting with Dad for lunch, not going to a parole hearing, and yet the butterflies in my stomach had not stopped since I woke up that morning.

I tried to shake it away, and told myself everything would be all right, and I opened the door to go into the guest room to quickly get dressed and ready. Henry followed hot on my heels.

/

Despite the fact it was lunchtime and the restaurant was totally packed, I saw my Dad straight away, and my heart gave a very breathtaking plummet into my stomach.

"Thank you..." Amy chimed behind me as the coat checker helped her wrestle out of her coat. Her baby bump was already drawing eyes and smiles from several patrons, though she ignored them all as she brushed her curls out of her eyes while taking hold of her clutch purse in both hands, and she gestured out into the dining room. "There he is, I see him."

The butterflies in my stomach that had started in the car ride over worsened as we made our slow steady way through the dining room. I hung behind her and let her take the lead, all but clinging to Amy's back like a baby koala bear watching the diners as we passed, elitist Gothamites in fine clothing picking at their gourmet meals and liquid lunches; most were engrossed in their own conversations, but many smiled up at Amy as we muscled past them.

I watched over Amy's shoulder as my Dad stood up from the table to greet us with a big smile on his face. I took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly; his black hair had grayed at the roots and at the sides, and he'd gained a little weight, but more or less he was completely the same, still ridiculously tall, clean-shaven, immaculately dressed. He grinned his great big Tyrannosaurus smile as Amy went in for a hug. "There she is," he said, kissing her cheek and embracing her. "My pear-shaped pumpkin."

I couldn't help but smile; I knew that wouldn't go over well. "Daddy," Amy said in a stern tone. "You call me that one more time and you won't be allowed to see the baby when he's born."

Dad laughed, his heavy booming laugh that I suddenly remembered all too well, and he released her. "All right, all right..." He took her hands and looked down at her belly, shaking his head a little and smiling. "You look fantastic, Amy, you really do. Half the eyes in this restaurant are on you."

"Yeah, whatever," Amy set down her clutch on the table. "Okay, I have to pee for like, the millionth time today," she turned towards me, setting a hand on my shoulder to help anchor herself around me to head back to the front. "Would you please order me a sparkling water?"

I nodded. "Sure."

I watched her go for as long as I could, and then when I turned around, Dad was staring at me pointedly, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what his eyes were seeing, that he was seeing me there, in the flesh, for the first time in years. His brown eyes were wide and shiny, as if he were about to cry, and although I could tell he was trying to smile, he almost seemed afraid to. I flexed my arms to keep them from shaking and I mustered as much of a smile as I could.

Finally, after what seemed like a long time, as some of the surrounding diners were looking at us suspiciously, wondering what exactly was going on, Dad managed an awkward little chuckle. "Janey."

I swallowed tightly, feeling tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. "Hi Daddy."

At that, he opened his arms and I hugged him, wrapping my arms around him and gasping just a little as his arms closed around me very tightly, as if he were afraid I was going to struggle and try to get away. But nothing was further from the truth; I closed my eyes and rest my forehead against his chest and took in his smell, the smell of my childhood; I couldn't remember the last time I felt so safe, loved, protected, so close to home, than in that single moment.

"It's so good to see you," he said, and I could hear the emotion in his voice. "It's been so long."

The emotion washed over me and caught me then, and with it came the underlying dread I'd been feeling since Amy told me he was in town and wanted to see us, and then the shame of how I had acted years before, when last I saw him. It'd been almost seven years. "It's really good to see you too."

He didn't let me go for what felt like a very long time, and granted I couldn't keep back a few tears. I had always been his little girl, taking after him way more than I took after my Mom, in both looks and personality; he and I had always been very close when I was younger, given how Amy took great interest in clothes and makeup and everything quite refined and girly and therefore was more attached to my Mom, whereas I had been more interested in hiking and going to the zoo and the aquarium. I know it hit him really hard when I met Eric and my behaviour took a turn for the worst; I couldn't imagine how he felt when I left Metropolis.

After a few moments, he let me go, though I could sense his reluctance; I pulled the chair out from the table with a shaky hand and sat myself down while Dad sat down on the other side of table, smiling at me whole-heartedly, and I struggled to smile back at him. I don't know why, but my heart was pounding so hard that it hurt.

"So..." Dad said, transitioning into conversation, as he straightened his jacket and cradled his hands down on the table in front of him. "Amy says you're upgrading your high school marks."

I took in a breath and let it out, nodding. "Yeah, I am, doing some online stuff...it's been really great so far."

It really had been. Picking up on my high school biology and chemistry was a big improvement from pulling drenched bedsheets out of toilets and finding dead bodies during the first early morning rounds.

Dad smiled widely and nodded his approval. "That's good, I'm really glad. You have any idea what you'd like to do with that?"

"Well," I shrugged a little. "I'd like to go to university, at some point."

His eyes widened and glowed a little; Dad was a doctor and always held post-secondary education in great regard, understandably. To memory, I don't think I'd ever really confided to him that I wanted to go into zoology, unless he understood given the trips we took to the zoo and the aquarium when I was little. "Do you have a major in mind?"

I smiled, nodding. "I think so, yeah."

Dad nodded, and then he looked down at the table surface and shook his head from side to side, almost as if he couldn't quite believe it, but he was thrilled nonetheless; I think I knew how he felt. I know once or twice he must have wondered if he'd ever see me again, given how I'd disappeared in the Narrows. I imagined my resurfacing and describing plans to get on a healthy, more scholarly track was more than he could have hoped to hear.

"That's spectacular, Jane," he said, looking up at me, unable to keep the smile off his face. "It really is, good for you."

I smiled back, and opened my mouth to tell him I was thinking about zoology, but at that point the waiter came to the table, standing and smiling down at the two of us. "Good afternoon."

Dad smiled up at him. "Good afternoon, oh..." he leaned towards me, pointing. "Jane, what would you like to drink?"

"Just an iced tea, please." I told the waiter, smiling up at him.

Dad considered me curiously for a moment before ordering. "I'll have an espresso, and..." he pointed next to me, to Amy's seat. "This one over here will have sparkling water."

The waiter nodded. "Certainly," and then he was off. I watched him go for a split second, for no particular reason, and caught a glimpse of the other diners sitting around us: women wearing beautiful clothes with expensive jewelry, men in perfectly cut suits, the kind Matt wore, and snappy, expensive haircuts. The Gotham elite really _was _elite; it was so weird to see how the other side lived.

"Jane," Dad said, pulling my attention back to him, and he was looking at me inquisitively. "You're not drinking?"

I smiled a little, and opened my mouth to tell him no, actually, I'd stopped drinking since leaving the Narrows - I knew he'd be delighted to hear it, since I'd been doing a lot of underaged drinking when I still lived in Metropolis - but at that point, Amy came back and sat down beside me with a scowl and a huff. "Some woman in the ladies room put her hands on my stomach like it was a bowling ball."

I tried not to laugh; I'd always heard of those women who loved being pregnant; Amy was not really one of them. Dad, on the other hand, just laughed out loud. "Kinda goes with the territory."

Amy shook her head as she opened her menu. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna start pepper-spraying people who even make a move to touch my belly."

"Oh really?" Dad laughed. "And have your baby born in Blackgate?"

I felt my amused smile fall off my face with the mention of _Blackgate_, but they hardly noticed; beside me, Amy made a face and held out her spare hand as if to say _c'mon_. "Nobody goes to jail for pepper-spraying, Dad," She shook her head as he laughed at her. "Besides, even if I was sued, nobody's gonna touch me, not with Matthew Walker Hartz representing me."

"Ah," Dad replied, and I couldn't help but smile once more. I knew Amy adored Matt, but when she called him by his full name, that, oh - _that _was meant with the highest form of praise I'd ever heard anyone give anyone. "How is Matt, by the way? Did he get that card we sent him for his birthday?"

Dramatically, Amy gasped and let her menu fall down onto the table. "_Yes_, and do you know what he said about it?"

Dad was already laughing, and I prepared myself for the story, because his reaction to their birthday card _had _been hilarious -

But then, from one of the tables behind me, I heard it.

"All I'm saying," said a diner to his companion, with a rather defensive tone in his voice. "If he stole the money from the mob funds, how do we know that the Joker-"

I felt the blood leave my face, and sucked in a breath while fighting the urge to double over and cover my ears with my hands, though I know now that it'd been spoken aloud, I'd be hearing it in my head for hours. The Joker. The Joker. The **Joker**.

I did a poor job at hiding it, too, because Dad looked at me and his eyebrows furred in concern. "Jane, are you all right?"

Nodding, I shook a hand at him dismissively. "Yeah, I'm fine-"

"You don't look fine," Amy said beside me, sitting back to get a better look at my face. "You've gone all pale. Did you have breakfast this morning?"

I didn't answer her; instead, while struggling to smile at the two of them reassuringly, I stood up from my chair, placing my napkin on the table. "I'm okay, I'm just gonna splash some water on my face."

Maternal instincts kicking in already, apparently, Amy griped the back of her chair, looking up at me earnestly. "You want me to come with you?"

I waved her off. "No, no it's fine, I'll be right back."

I could feel their eyes on me as I walked away from the table and made my way towards the front of the restaurant, pressing a hand against my stomach absently and keeping my eyes on the ground, dictating my careful footsteps, not paying attention to the other diners I passed. Once I reached the solace of the poshly furnished ladies room, I felt light-headed, sat down on a chair set in front of a cherrywood vanity, and bent over to place my head between my knees to take a few long breaths in and out.

The Joker, he called himself the Joker, it was almost laughable!

I had succeeded in not giving him a single thought for the eight months - _eight _months - since leaving the Narrows; living with Matt and Amy had their fair share of fun and shenanigans and all that, thankfully, had kept me from dwelling on the past longer than a minute, a minute where I could stop myself and take a breath and remember the promise I made to myself that I would move on. I would forget everything that happened and try to carry on with my life; Jack didn't deserve the afterthought, and I didn't deserve the stress.

But now he was back, but he wasn't Jack anymore, no no no no. He was the Joker.

How did he do it? How did he crawl up from the gutter to pull off the heist on the bank? A prestigious bank, at that, housing all the funds and personal accounts of some of the city's highest and most dangerous mob men...how did he do it, and why? Was it because he was sick of living poorly in the Narrows?

The door opened and an older woman stepped inside, jewels glittering from her ears and neck, and upon seeing me she stilled and a look of concern crossed her heavily made-up features. "Are you all right, dear?"

I eased her a smile and nodded. "Fine, thank you."

I wondered, as she walked past me to go to one of the bathroom stalls, how she would have reacted if I told her that the masked bank robber known as the Joker was a stone-cold murdering psychopath who once left me to die in an alley in the Narrows after I'd been stabbed. I almost wanted to shout it out, not just to have someone hear it, but just to get it the hell out of my head, just to have it out in the open so I didn't have to keep it so bottled up.

Sighing, I stood up and went to the sinks to splash a little water on my face, and as I pat my cheeks dry, I looked at myself in the mirror, remembering for the first time in a long time that I had my father's hazel eyes, and they looked far more clear, and the circles under my eyes had disappeared and my skin seemed more rosy and healthy. Moving to Matt and Amy's was the best thing I could have done after everything that happened; I'd slept for days and when I woke up, Amy was calm and understanding and doting, the way she was when we were little, and Matt was charming and funny and came home with hilarious stories about his coworkers, and suddenly there were breakfasts in a sun-filled nook and lunches out and shopping trips and watching movies with pints of pricy ice cream and discussions about the future and a queen-sized bed and entertaining banter between Matt and Amy during dinner and talking to my parents again and more tears than I could shed and more thanks than I could give that I was alive and I was away from the Narrows and that life had meaning once more.

All to come crashing down around me because of _him._

I stared at myself in the mirror and then took a washcloth and wiped the mascara from underneath my eyes, fixed my smudged lipstick, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I shook my head at myself.

Well, at least now he had more money than he could ever need.

He could disappear once more, and he would, if he knew what would good for him; he couldn't evade the cops for long, not dressed up the way he was, not parading around in greasepaint the way he was. He would disappear or they would find him, that's how it would be done.

I smiled at myself then, not only because it seemed to be the only thing I could do aside from scream, but because I realized then that this was the first time in a long time I'd looked into a mirror in months. I'd become so careful to avoid them since leaving the Narrows, since visions of broken glass and writing in sloppy red greasepaint danced across my dreams and woke me up from cold sweats once or twice. I looked upon my reflection and couldn't believe how silly it had been, really; mirrors were nothing to fear. My reflection wasn't broken the way his had been.

Clearing my throat, I stood to attention, checked my hair, my makeup, my clothes; things had changed; Jack wouldn't change that. He would disappear.

I tipped my chin to myself, very professional. "_Welcome back._"

/


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Wow! The feedback for the beginning of this story was so awesome! Thank you all so much **ari87, maipigen, Marie Phantom, Inktwister, allthelovers, ElektraMackenzie, PrimeEmily135, RedHairedJenna, Ravenclaw992, Leyshla Gisel, Anea the Morwinyon, ZombieOnTheMoon, Robotdonkey, FattySkeleton, KatieMarrie, HannahDanyelle, Hypertown, Nexfaeri, Guest, YoursAnnie, Lexiful Sunshine, muffin, BlackHeartedCrow, Lady Nerd, ZombiePeach, KorroksApostle, boca3, Alexi122, Fumblepaws, whimsicalRenegade, linalove, cathy loves heath, Firerosemon, iwishtheskywasgreen, thirstycersei, bandgeek17, SammiRichGurl, InTheShadowOfSignificance, sandstormhero, Nocturnal Rose, Kichigal17, love-warmth-life, Zietraum, Anonymous, 13eyondx, Lady Liesel, EmilyEverlasting, vampgurl90, Emma, Fragile Dream, Guest, ber1719, xxKhaleesixx, Lost Time Traveler, Mila Romanov, ShipsThatFly, Jestie Uchiha, aoisenshi, pourquoibella, A-KT66, GlitteringSnow, Avengers4EVER, Liv, Yuki Hikari, Tearsheet, FALLING-ANGEL24, EllenAllen, **and** itsjustanotherbrickinthewall **for your reviews. Enjoy the update!

**Remnant**

**Chapter Two**

**/**

I woke up, quite suddenly, to the sound of a woman screaming.

The guest bedroom was dark, the door was closed, the clock radio on the bedside table read 2:34am, and when I stuck my head up and listened for the screaming, all I could hear was my own heavy breathing and my heart slamming against my chest, choking me.

"A-Amy..." I whispered, half-expecting to hear her scream, or call out for help, or something.

Henry was sleeping soundly at the end of the bed, or at least he was until I flipped the duvet and he put his head up, glaring at me, albeit sleepily. I crossed the room and went to the door and listened, panting in fear, my heart palpitating, and I looked down at the doorknob and was scared to death to touch it and turn it and open the door to whatever lay on the other side. So I listened, but all I could hear was a little bit of road noise from the city below outside the window, and the low groan of Henry as he stretched and yawned and curled up once more. I swallowed thickly and my throat was dry and I wrung my hands as I stood there in the dark, listening for the screams.

They'd woken me up, I knew I heard them.

And yet everything seemed tranquil; there was a coolness about the scented air in the guest bedroom, and the last of the night's moonlight came in through the window. I tried to stop myself from thinking and pulled in a breath and let it out slowly, and then did it again, and again, and again...

I didn't hear anything.

Leaning towards the door as close as I could without pressing my ear against it, I carefully took hold of the doorknob and turned it. I stuck my head out into the hallway and beheld a dark, quiet apartment; the end of the hall broke off into the lavish kitchen and from there it continued into the dining room and living room. Two doors down, even with the door closed, I could hear Amy snoring and knew we'd all hear about it from Matt in the morning.

There was nothing to be seen or heard. Everything was as it should have been.

I sighed heavily and closed the door. Henry was staring at me with this indignant look on his face, as though I was an unruly teenager who'd snuck out during the night only to come home and find him waiting for me. Scratching his head didn't appease him either, as he merely curled his nose at me as I walked towards the guest bathroom.

I ran the faucet and splashed cool water on my face and leaned against the vanity for a few moments, shaking my head. I hadn't been plagued with nightmares following everything that happened in the Narrows, and for that, I considered myself extremely lucky and I was grateful; the only thing worse than having to live with the memories would have been having to relive them night after night.

And yet every now and then a tremor in the force woke me from sleep, the most secure and comfortable sleep I'd been having in years since I'd moved to Matt and Amy's, and there was no telling what it was. Once or twice it had been the cold of the wind coming in through the window, though there was a much more sinister air to it than that. One night I woke up and was sure someone was in the room, but there was nothing, and Henry was asleep and didn't sense anything at all. Mostly, whenever it happened, I woke up just because something woke me up, and I couldn't tell you, for the life of me, what it was, exactly.

But it had never been a woman screaming.

I went back to bed and eased myself under the duvet, curling it up under my arm while I rest my head in the crook of my elbow, staring out the window at the neighbouring buildings, listening to the sounds of the few cars on the road this time of night making their way to their very early morning destination.

I didn't hear the screams again for the rest of the night.

/

Matt and Amy were early risers, mostly because Matt had to leave early for his commute to work and Amy liked to get up to have coffee and breakfast with him before being left to her own devices for the rest of the day. They were talking quite adamantly as I sleepily made my way down the hallway into the kitchen.

"C'mon, Ames," Matt said, in an urging tone of voice. "We won't even stay that long."

I turned the corner and Amy was sitting at her usual stool at the island, not yet changed out of her fluffy pink maternity pajamas, hair up in a lazy ponytail, reading from a magazine and sipping orange juice, not once looking up at her husband, who stood crisp and clean in Armani opposite her, chestnut brown hair washed and unruly, as per usual, completely ready for the day. "I'm not going," she said, in a way that made me think he'd probably been badgering her about it for awhile. "I'm the size of a whale, what am I gonna wear?"

"So what am I supposed to do," Matt asked, holding out his hands. "Just go by myself?"

"Why not?" she shrugged. "The guys from the office are going, aren't they? Just make it a guys night."

I looked between them as I came into the kitchen, took a mug out of the cupboard and went for the coffeepot. "Whatcha guys talking about?"

"Nothing," Matt said to me over his shoulder, exasperated. "There's just this big stupid fundraiser for the new DM that I'm supposed to be at tonight," he sipped from his own coffee and handed me the cream when I gestured for it. "I don't even want to go, I didn't vote for him. I don't trust men with ass-chins."

"You're an idiot," Amy piped up from her seat, not looking up from her magazine.

My interest was more than piqued. "I read about that in Gotham Today," I said after my first sip of coffee."Is that the one being held by Bruce Wayne?"

It'd been the biggest story to hit that month's Gotham Today; Bruce Wayne's deluxe penthouse on top of the city had been photographed for the front cover, though the man himself was unavailable for comment. It was promised to be the most impressive fundraiser/party that Gotham would see until the Mayor's Christmas Ball, and anyone who was anyone in Gotham City was going to be there with bells on.

Except for Matt and Amy, it seemed; Amy flipped through her magazine, completely uninterested, while Matt shrugged his shoulders, unimpressed. "The very same."

I smiled a little, though I didn't understand his disinterest; I leaned back against the counter, cradling my coffee cup between my hands, and thought about what it would be like to go to a Gotham party, a _real _Gotham party, with all the bigwigs of Gotham's elite looking amazing and sipping champagne and nibbling five-star quality finger foods. Bruce Wayne's penthouse was a spectacle in itself, and I had no doubt in my mind that he and his eccentricities would make the fundraiser one to remember. "Sounds kind of exciting..." I said, though in actuality I really meant to say it to myself.

Amy looked up at me with her big eyes, and then they flashed as though she'd been hit with an epiphany. She looked at Matt and pointed at me. "Why don't you take Jane?"

I felt my heart stop for a split second and then begin to race with excitement. That hadn't been on my mind at all; I figured the guest list was very inclusive, those with their names on the envelope written in golden ink or whatever were the only ones to show their faces, very elite, very secular.

I looked at Matt and half-expected him to give me a sad smile and tell me it really was invitation only, but instead he guffawed at his wife. "Yeah," he said. "Like she'd really want to go to some stuffy old fundraiser with her boring brother-in-law."

Amy made a face at him and then looked at me pointedly, as if expecting me to speak up and demand that he take me to the fundraiser as his date. I only looked between the two of them with a little bit of shock; Matt looked at me with his big sparkling blue eyes, and I could see by his expression that he was wondering if I really was interested in going, so I cleared my throat a little. "Is Harvey Dent actually going to be there?"

"Well," Matt mused. "It _is _his party. I wouldn't put it past Wayne to throw acid in his face if he didn't show up."

Suddenly I couldn't keep the grin off my face. I'd been following Harvey Dent on the news and in the Gotham magazines, not as much as I could have, but enough to know that he was a good guy who wanted to do good for the city, and he was starting at the root of the problem, with the organized crime in the Narrows. The arrest of Carmine Falcone way back when and the arrival of Batman had done wonders for Gotham's crime rate, but I understood the importance behind Dent's stance for the city. "I'd love to meet him."

From where she sat, Amy beamed. "There, you see," she said to Matt. "Take Jane, introduce her to Harvey, you guys will have a great time."

For a moment it seemed as though Matt wasn't quite convinced, but I could see it written on his face that this was an important event for him to attend and he most definitely didn't want to go alone. After a moment, he nodded. "All right," he said, and went towards the sink to wash out his coffeecup, pointing a finger of warning at me. "But if you get picked up by some filthy rich billionaire, don't hold me responsible."

I grinned at him. "Wouldn't that be just awful."

Matt sniggered, and then he fiddled with his tie. "Alright, I've gotta take off," he turned and went towards Amy, resting his hand on her belly while leaning down to kiss her lips, which she only too happily returned. "Bye, baby."

"Bye." She chimed, and watched him wander off towards the front door.

"I'll see you guys later," he called before we heard the jangle of keys, and then the opening and closing of the front door.

I watched as Amy settled back into her seat and flipped through her magazine, totally oblivious to the fact I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I shook my head as I looked down into my coffee cup. "Going to a real Gotham elite party..._me_."

Amy shrugged. "They're not that great," she said. "Sure there's all the champagne you can drink and lots of fancy food, but the people are so fake."

"But there'll be lots of Gotham VIPs there," I said, thinking about the city officials who would be there, who I could be introduced to and possibly strike up conversations with. It was suddenly difficult to contain my excitement.

"For a lot of them, being a VIP doesn't make them any less fake," she said, as though the notion severely disappointed her, and she seemed done with her magazine and instead leaned forward to sip her orange juice. Her baby bump was quite noticeable at that point; six months in and she looked as though she was pregnant with twins. Their boy was gonna be a big one.

I smiled at her and sipped my coffee, ecstatic; I couldn't wait. I loved these types of functions when I was little, even though I'd never really been one for getting excited to get all gussied up; but they were great fun every now and then, and this was definitely one of those functions where you got all dressed up and put your face on and did your hair and looked gorgeous all night long-

And then it hit me, and it wiped the smile right off my face. "What am I gonna wear?"

I didn't have anything dressy; I hadn't owned anything dressy in years. Living in the Narrows didn't exactly call for evening gowns and rhinestone tiaras.

Amy frowned at me, and looked me up and down as though I was insisting on going to the party in my pajamas. "Don't you have anything?"

I shook my head, embarrassed to say that no, I didn't, and anything I had wouldn't have been nearly nice enough to wear to Bruce Wayne's penthouse. "Not really."

She twisted her lip to the side, the way she did when she was thinking, and then easing herself up off the stool, she motioned for me to follow her with the wave of her hand. "C'mon. I can't fit my dresses but there should be at least a couple that fit you."

/

Amy had an incredible wardrobe, as clothes had been her passion since she was a little girl, following my mother's example; with her golden curls and pretty pixie features, she could pull off any look, and she always did; Matt once told me that the first time he saw Amy, at another one of these big parties, she was wearing a golden Grecian style gown, with her cheekbones dusted with light sparkling bronzer, and she looked like a goddess - but when he went up to her to introduce himself, she curled her lip at him and told him to get out of her face. He knew, right then and there, that he was going to marry her. Or so he claimed, but I didn't doubt it.

Her collection of dresses was ridiculous; some of them were label while others were not, but they were all in gorgeous taste, and each one looked more incredible than the last. I stood there in her walk-in closet for a long time just marveling at them, one by one, while Amy sat in the bedroom flipping through the channels on the TV. There was a new "what to expect when you're expecting" type TV show that she'd taken to watching recently.

"Do you know what Matt's gonna wear?" I called out to her.

"Probably his Yohji jacket," she called. "It's black...but he's got a billion ties. Chances are, you pick a dress, he'll have the tie to match it."

I smiled to myself and nodded; that seemed practical yet elegant. I resumed going through the dress collection, pushing some out of the way to look at others.

"What about shoes? You need shoes?" She called.

I laughed a little. "Amy, my feet are two times smaller than yours."

"So stuff them with kleenex, it'll work," she called to me, though I could tell that she was distracted flipping through the channels looking for her show. I continued my search; I was not going to wear her shoes wadded with kleenex, ridiculous.

"Y'know," she said. "With your hair, there's that one black-laced cream Herve Leger I bet you could really...holy _shit!_"

I stopped flipping between the dresses and paused to listen, looking towards the door to the walk-in. "What?" I called, but she didn't reply, and I frowned, abandoned the dresses and walked out into the bedroom to see what the problem was. Amy stood in front of the TV, her face totally ashen. I walked towards her quickly, and looked. "What is it?"

It was a Gotham City News bulletin, and anchorman Mike Engel looked serious and grim, and my eyes widened as I beheld the title banner beneath him. **Batman Dead?**

"_Viewers are advised_," Mike Engel said, looking directly into the camera. "_The image is disturbing_."

The video switched, suddenly, to a handheld camera. I felt my breath catch in my throat as we beheld Batman - or at least, a man dressed up as Batman - sitting in a chair with his hands obviously tied behind his back in what looked like the back room of a butcher shop or slaughter house. The man was leaning to one side, as though desperately trying to get away from whoever was holding camera.

And then...then-

"_Tell them your name."_

I pressed a hand against my mouth to cover the gasp.

The poor man dressed as Batman struggled to say his own name. "_Brian...Douglas._"

The camera shook, and the giggles came, and I stood there, petrified.

"_Are you the real Batman?"_

Poor Brian could barely spit it out. "_N-No..._"

"_No? No?!" _The giggles intensified, and a purple gloved hand reached forward and snatched the mask off the man's face._"Then why do you __**dress up like him**_?" We stood there in absolute shock as the mask was waved in front of the camera, accompanied by the giggles.

Brian, unmasked, struggled to speak out. "_H-He's a symbol...that w-we don't have to be afraid of s-scum like you."_

A gloved hand grabbed him by the neck. _"Yeah, you _do, _Brian. You _really _do!" _he growled, and shook the man's head by his hair. _"Yeaaah..." _and when Brian started to whimper, I felt my stomach churn as the glove hand stroked Brian's cheek, mockingly. _"Oh, shh shh shh shh shh..._" and then smacked the other side of his face. _"So, you think Batman's made Gotham a better place?"_

The question was entirely inquisitive, though the tone was mocking, and Brian continued to whimper in fear, and I couldn't help but feel just as afraid as he was in that moment.

"_Hmm_?" The camera pulled back to get a better view of Brian, who wouldn't even look at his interrogator at that point; he looked ready to pass out in fear. _"Look at me_," his interrogator said, and we watched, completely unable to look away, as Brian remained silent, and the camera began to shake. _**"Look at me!"**_

My heart stopped, the breath left my body and I felt a tear roll out of the corner of my eye; I continued to hold my hand against my mouth so I wouldn't whimper. Amy, next to me, didn't move a muscle or utter a single sound. We both just stared, stared at the TV, stared at Brian as he finally lifted his eyes and looked back at us, full of fear, and silently pleading for help.

And then, the camera twisted around, away from Brian -

I heard the smacking of his lips before I saw his face. Bastard. **Bastard!**

"_You see this is how _crazy _Batman's made Gotham..." _Jack said into the camera, his face smothered sloppily with the damned greasepaint, his breathing heavy. _"You want order in Gotham? Batman must take off his mask and turn himself _in..."

I sucked in a shaky breath and I curled my nose at him, but I couldn't help the tears falling from my eyes.

Jack smacked his lips, twirling with the camera ever so sloppily, and then his eyebrows rose. _"Oh, and every day he doesn't, people will die...starting tonight..."_

I shook my head at him as though I could plead with him right then and there. _No...__**no!**_

Jack smacked his lips into the camera and pulled it right close to his mouth. _"I'm a man of my wurrrrd__**.**_"

And then, the laugh. _That _laugh.

The laugh was loud and maniacal and it filled the room and it filled my head and all I wanted to do was close my hands over my ears and shake it away, shake it out of my head, but I couldn't do anything. I was frozen, we both were; we stared at the TV as he laughed, and the camera shook violently, and we could hear Brian screaming in the background -

And then, abruptly, it was over.

The picture returned to Mike Engel, sitting there looking as though he'd just watched Satan appear on his own news channel and threaten the well being of all humanity. He shook his head and looked to the camera, returning to his report. "_Gotham City Police and the forensics team are currently looking into the origins of-_"

Next to me, Amy finally made a move; she pressed a hand against her chest and rested the other one on the swell of her stomach, the footage of the Joker shaking her down to her core. She let out a heavy breath, her eyes never once leaving the TV screen. "Jesus..." she breathed, and shook her head a little bit. "First the bank, now this...who is this clown?"

I heard her, but I couldn't respond. I couldn't form words. In my head and in my ears, all I could hear, right at that moment, was a woman screaming, just like the screams that had woken me up in the dead of the night.

I knew then - the woman screaming was me.

/


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Huge thank you to **machee, FALLING-ANGEL24, Countenance, Emilise284, linalove, maipigen, Lexiful Sunshine, MiriamMarina, Mila Romanov, KrysOfSorrow, aoisenshi, InTheShadowOfSignificance, xxKhaleesixx, Serendipity's tears, Elenko, Fragile Dream, Leyshla Gisel, Lost Time Traveler, Marie Phantom, hlytxaccountant, Ravenclaw992, black ink'n white paper, LuckyBabe, Jestie Uchiha, Notaguest, PrimeEmily135, HannahDanyelle, Yuki Hikari, KorroksApostle, vampgurl90, KrnYong, Guest, muffin, YoursAnnie, ber1719, lavaxlamp, MaggieMcCartney, 13eyondx, pourquoibella, EllenAllen, RachelLynnexx, ShipsThatFly, Gotham's Angel Avenger, Tearsheet, rippedskies, CeliaSingsSongs, Lady Liesel, miumiu, murtagh799, TinkerbellxO, Avengers4EVER, boca3, She-Wolf360, MidnightRoses291, hulouhoop, Guest, Nebelhexe, Heise, Guest, RoseyDay, Guest **and **P0tions **for your awesome reviews. Big party scene, guys. Enjoy! :P

**Remnant**

**Chapter Three**

**/**

Bruce Wayne's penthouse was on the 35th floor of one of the city's tallest buildings, and so the elevator ride took a good long while, as was to be expected. I was all nerves, wringing my hands and trying not to get Amy's clutch completely covered with palm sweat. Next to me, Matt was rocking back and forth on his toes, his hands in his pockets, whistling some insignificant tune, as though this fundraiser was one of so many and it was the most mundane thing in the world. He was dressed to kill; he usually was anyway, but the Yohji jacket he wore complimented his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and his hair was unruly but it looked so natural on him, and when he grinned, he dazzled with a million dollar pristine white smile. He wore a deep blue tie to compliment the dress I was wearing; he joked that if either one of us got lost, the other Gothamites would be able to match us up and return us to each other no problem, which made me laugh, but Amy wasn't impressed.

As we neared the 25th floor, Matt leaned towards me. "Before we go in, we should probably go over some ground rules."

I couldn't help but snort; were we playing Gotham VIP touch football? Amy had given me a similar spiel, though hers had been pretty limited to _don't eat the blowfish. _"Ground rules? You're as bad as Amy."

Matt took his hands out of his pockets and turned on me, mock fury on his face. "You take that back!_"_

I was still laughing like a fool when the elevator doors slid open to welcome us to Bruce Wayne's penthouse.

The penthouse itself was even more luxurious than the photos in Gotham Today made it seem; plane glass lined the far wall so that in the daytime it was filled with nothing but sun, but now, in the dark it showcased a glittering view of nighttime Gotham, every which way you turned and looked, and the hall in itself, easily the size of a school gymnasium, absolutely dazzled from the curtains of pixie lights on the walls and the array of soft lighting. The people were visions in and of themselves, but then again what would you expect from the richest citizens of Gotham City? The women were dressed in only the most beautiful and likely the most expensive, and the men all wore only the most dapper suits and tuxedos. A decadent buffet table lined the far wall and everyone everywhere was drinking champagne from crystal flutes and speaking to each other with wide smiles and animated conversation. I took Matt's arm when he offered it as we stepped off the elevator and I absolutely could not keep the grin off my face.

"Okay, so, rule number one," Matt said, leaning into me. "If we ever get separated, run and scream. You don't want to be unprotected around these brutes."

I giggled. They certainly looked brutish. "City officials, Matt?"

"_Especially _city officials," he said, quite seriously, and held up a finger to illustrate his point. "Run and scream."

"Ah," I nodded in agreement. "Should I flail my arms about wildly as well?"

He shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt."

I began to scour the crowd; there were easily at least 60 people in attendance, it was going to be more difficult to spot Harvey Dent and other Gotham VIPs in the crowd. We loitered about lazily for a few moments, simply taking in the crowd, and then after awhile Matt leaned close to my ear. "Second rule, never accept drinks from old men in suits, even if they look the part."

I suppressed a laugh, because at that very moment, a very finely dressed older gentleman with a lovely disposition, thinning silvery hair and kindly blue eyes approached us, carrying a tray of flutes of champagne. He smiled at me and held the tray out in offering. "Champagne, ma'am?"

I gave him a smile as I took two flutes and nodded to him kindly. "Thank you."

He gave me a stately nod before moving on, and as I turned to give Matt one of the champagne flutes, he was frowning at me quite severely. "What did I _just _say?"

I laughed. "Matt, he's the butler."

"You don't know that." He said, taking the champagne and breaking into another smile, nudging me playfully with his elbow as I took my first sip of champagne, and caught a glimpse of a couple of women admiring me in Amy's dress, which made me draw my eyes away and blush in the apples of my cheeks, though some of that may have been the champagne's doing. I looped my arm through Matt's and allowed him to lead me to swan around the ballroom, keeping our eyes open for people we might have known or recognized.

"When do we get to meet Harvey Dent?" I asked Matt at one point, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to talk, since more people had obviously arrived and the ballroom was quickly filling with the party's expected number of guests.

"I don't know if he's even here yet," Matt told me, swallowing a sip of champagne, and I was resolved to keep my head up and eyes open for a glimpse of him in the thickening crowd.

I was surprised and yet not that surprised to find that so many people recognized and approached Matt; Amy had told me once that he knew so many people, she was surprised he didn't get exhausted at functions like this. But it was in his nature; he was personable, and he had a smile that could make you feel like you were the only other person in the world, and he was damn good with names and faces, I don't know how he did it. For the first half hour after we arrived, between trips to the buffet table and champagne from the servers, Matt approached and was approached by all manner of people calling his name from across the room. He shook hands, he kissed cheeks, and he even doled out those shoulder-blade-slapping hugs guys do, and he was ever the gentleman. He always introduced me first chance he had and I was delighted to make acquaintances, and Matt was always careful not to succumb to talking business, though it was obvious some of these folks wanted to talk about nothing but.

And yet, of all the people we spoke to and all the people we saw, and even though I scored the crowd every chance I got, there was no sign of Harvey Dent.

Then, all of a sudden and out of the blue, we heard a loud noise hovering over the top of the penthouse, quieting the room and drawing attention, and it only took a moment for a large helicopter to come into view and land on the balcony just outside the doors. Everyone was drawn to it, crowding at the glass to get a look at the lavish newcomer, and with my height and my shoes I was able to see, and watched, as a brilliant man stepped out of the helicopter and turned to help his date...two dates...wow, okay - _three _dates, gorgeous women dressed in blue, yellow and pink, out of the helicopter, and grinning like a fool he wrapped arms around the waists of two and led them all towards the balcony doors.

Though at first I couldn't get a good glimpse of him, there was no doubt in my mind who he was.

All eyes were on him as he came into the room, smiling, and while his dates hung back, he came into the crowd and held out his hands as if to embrace everyone looking on. "Sorry that I am late, but I'm glad to see you all got started without me."

The crowd parted for him as if he were a god, and truly Bruce Wayne _was _a god in that moment; it was the first time I ever laid eyes on him in person, though I'd seen his picture countless times before. With his gliding walk and overly pleasant demeanor, combined with incredibly good looks and what was obviously a toned body, I'd always considered him quite princely, but nothing prepared me for seeing him in person. I was smiling so wide I could feel it pinching my cheeks.

"Now where," he said, smiling and clasping his hands together. "Is Harvey? Where-" and, having obviously spotted him in the crowd, opened his hands. "Harvey Dent. Man of the hour."

I tried standing up on my tip toes, looking for Harvey Dent, suddenly elated that he had obviously been in the room with us the entire time and I just hadn't seen him.

"Where's Rachel Dawes?" Bruce said, looking amongst the crowd, and obviously having seen the assistant DA in the crowd, held out a hand towards her. "She is my oldest friend."

I looked, but we were too far back and the crowd was so thick that I couldn't get a glimpse of her. Matt, at my side, wasn't even bothering; he was whispering something to a colleague, which earned him a snort.

Bruce Wayne continued. "Y'know when Rachel first told me that she was dating Harvey Dent," he pointed towards Harvey. "I had one thing to say: the guy from those god-awful campaign commercials?"

I snickered, unable to help it, along with many in the crowd, and watched Bruce Wayne mimic a headline with his hands. "_I Believe in Harvey Dent_?" He gave Harvey a thumbs up. "Yeah, nice slogan, Harvey. But-" he held out a hand into the crowd. "It got Rachel's attention, and then I started paying attention to Harvey."

The smile slid off my face, as something soft suddenly slipped into Bruce's tone; once again I tried to stand up on my toes, though it proved too hard to do int he shoes I was wearing, to get a glimpse of Rachel Dawes. Something about the way he talked about her made me think that maybe once they had been a little more than just "old" friends.

"And all that he's been doing," Bruce continued, softly, just as before. "As our new DA, and y'know what?" he paused, and pressed his lips together, and cast a fleeting lance about the crowd before settling back on Harvey, quite decisively. "I believe in Harvey Dent. I believe that on his watch, Gotham can feel...a little safer, and a little more...domestic."

I smiled once more, though it was more in endearment than it was delight.

"Look at this face," Bruce said, motioning to Harvey. "This is the face of Gotham's bright future. To Harvey Dent, let's hear it for him."

Bruce Wayne began to clap, and all around, the crowd broke into applause; I shifted the clutch purse under my arm and clapped my hands together as loud as I possibly could, taking note of Matt's somewhat sardonic clapping beside me, and I kept my head up and watched Bruce Wayne for as long as I could, still trying to get a glimpse of Harvey Dent, though it was still difficult, and would probably be next to impossible to get a chance to see him after such an ovation.

After a moment, the applause began to die down, and then Bruce smiled grandly and held up a hand to the crowd. "Everyone, food and drinks are on me, have as much as you like, enjoy yourselves, please. And have a good time everyone."

Applause erupted once more, though it was considerably short-lived, and then the music began again and the chatter around the room increased. I watched Bruce Wayne for as long as I could, and only caught a glimpse of him walking towards Harvey Dent before the crowd began to bustle and disperse around me. I settled back towards Matt, grinning like a fool, and when I looked at him, he raised his eyebrows at me. "Quite a speech, huh? Expect nothing but from good ol'Wayne."

He was far from pleased, I could tell, but I didn't mind; I thought it was brief yet sincere, and quite advocating. "Do you know him?"

"Unfortunately," Matt rolled his eyes. "The guy's flaky and boring, holy fuck, is he boring..." and he raised his chin, as if he was trying to see above the crowd, and he sighed, quite dramatically. "But I suppose I better thank him for the invite," and he took my hand. "C'mon."

And then Matt was leading me through the crowd, and my smile was gone, and my heart was in my stomach, and it was suddenly way too difficult to walk in my shoes, and the dress was suddenly too tight, and I had the urge to start hyperventilating but did my very best to keep up with Matt, who just trudged right through as if it was his party and he owned the place.

I was going to meet him. I was going to meet Bruce Wayne.

Bruce had his back turned to us and was holding a flute of champagne and talking jovially with a few surrounding, admiring guests when Matt let go of my hand and made himself known. "Bruce!"

I took in his chocolate brown hair, cut to perfect, and his suddenly-towering height, and the gorgeous cut of his Armani suit and his perfect posture and a subtle whiff of his knee-crippling cologne, and watched, wide-eyed and starstruck, as Bruce turned with an inquisitive look on his face which then erupted into an expression of glee. He smiled widely and extended his hand. "Hey Matt, there he is, glad you could make it."

Matt shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey man, thanks for the invite, you throw one helluva party, though we haven't seen Harvey yet."

"Oh, I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Bruce said, casting a glance around the crowd. "Y'know, soaking up the support."

Matt nodded, and then he looked at me and nodded to me, and I felt my heart stop in my chest. "My sister-in-law here was very much looking forward to meeting him."

I could feel the blood gush into my cheeks and suddenly I was smiling so wide and my heart was positively thundering against my chest, so much that I was finding it difficult to breathe.

Bruce Wayne turned to look at me, upon Matt's introduction.

...

And the strangest thing happened.

I'll never forget it for as long as I live.

As Bruce Wayne looked down upon me, smiling brilliantly, his eyes gleaming, all of a sudden his expression fell...just..._fell_. Literally as if it had been slapped right off his face.

His smile was gone, and something came into his eyes, something like confusion, and he scrutinized my face frantically as though we'd met somewhere before and he was trying to remember when and where, and my name, and I felt my smile falter a little, for I wasn't expecting the reaction at all, but then I saw the recognition alight in his features, I could see by the way his eyebrows furled and then lifted, and his dark brown eyes, which stared at me so intently, sparkled for a moment, and he gave way to a very handsome smile.

To this day I don't know if I was imagining it or not, but I remember it so clearly...Bruce Wayne and I had never met before, and yet, that look on his face...it just seemed as if-

"Well, I thought your wife was looking a little more raven-haired, but this makes much more sense," Bruce Wayne said, chuckling, and he transferred his champagne flute from one hand to the other so he might extend his right hand to me. I slipped my hand into his and withheld a giggle as his hand swallowed mine whole. He shook my hand whole-heartedly, his eyes never leaving me. "Bruce Wayne."

My cheeks hurt, my smile was so huge; it wasn't every day Bruce Wayne shook your hand and gave you a smile that made your heart flutter. I fought the very tempting urge to look at my thin hand swallowed by his large, protective hand as they shook. "Jane Morland."

How I was able to be so articulate in that moment, I'll never know.

"It's a pleasure," he said, and as Bruce released my hand, still smiling, he looked at Matt quickly. "I take it your wife's not feeling up to parties much."

Matt swallowed a sip of champagne and shook his head. "Well, y'know, she can't drink, so how's she supposed to enjoy these things?"

I glared at Matt for saying something so snarky, but Bruce simply laughed. "Well I can't say I blame her," he said, and turned back to me, his grand smile making me weak in the knees. "I'd barely be able to make it through one of these things myself if it weren't for crates full of the bubbly," he made a motion with his glass as though he meant to drink from it but then didn't, and instead tipped his head at me. "But your sister's doing well, I hope?"

I nodded, smiling, quite pleased that he would think to ask after Amy. "She is, thank you. She's feeling a little self-conscious about her size, but she looks gorgeous."

He nodded as he sipped his champagne, though it looked as though he had barely wet his lips with it. "Well, if you remember, give her my regards. Let her know that Bruce is still an excellent name for a boy. Then again, so is Wayne," he laughed, and I grinned to be polite, nodding my head in silent affirmation, and then he tipped his chin at me. "So, Jane, what do you do? You're exotic-looking, did you follow your sister into modeling?"

I swallowed and felt the smile fall off my face; telling Bruce Wayne of all people that you were upgrading your high school education didn't sound too impressive; mentioning that I had been in the housekeeping industry in the Narrows was even worse. I cleared my throat. "I'm preparing to go to university," I told him. Yes, that sounded much better.

"Oh, wonderful," he said, his eyebrows raising as though he were quite impressed. "And what are you going to study?"

"Zoology," I told him easily, with a big smile.

"Really? Don't hear that one too often," he said, chuckling. "Well, that must be pretty interesting: learning how to keep a zoo."

I felt a little put off, but I tried to smile nonetheless; behind him, Matt rolled his eyes at the comment, drank deep from his champagne flute, and turned his attention to someone else, rather jovially, too.

I turned my attention back to Bruce, just in time to catch a strange expression on his face; his mouth was smiling, showing off those pearly whites, but there was no delight in his eyes; they were serious and hard and set with mine, never blinking. "So," he continued, struggling to keep his smile. "Have you lived in Gotham long?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but then the gentleman who had offered me champagne earlier approached Bruce off his shoulder and very gently set a hand on his arm, garnering Bruce's attention. "Master Wayne, you're needed on the telephone."

I felt my eyebrows knit together and I frowned; seemed weird to pull Bruce Wayne away from a party for a phone call, and yet the man didn't seem in the least bit perturbed. He simply nodded and handed the gentleman his glass of champagne.

"Well..." Bruce looked to me and gave me a sheepish little smile. "Please excuse me, Jane; it was really nice to meet you."

I tipped my head to him. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Wayne."

"And Matt..." Bruce looked to his side and his brow furled. "Where'd he go?" he turned around; Matt had his back turned to us, indulging in conversation with someone else, and Bruce pat him on the shoulder, so Matt whirled around. "Matt, good to see you, thank you so much for coming."

Matt grinned and shook Bruce's hand. "Hey, you know me, man. You provide the booze, I'll always be there."

They laughed and Bruce slapped his shoulder playfully. "Don't I know it. Take care," he turned and cast a last fleeting look at me, with an edgy smile, and he nodded to me. "Take care, Jane."

"You too," I said, and watched him wander off and disappear into the swarm of the crowd, greeting his guests along the way until the back of his perfect head disappeared in the swarm. I watched for as long as I could, and probably longer than was necessary, before I sighed a little and sipped my champagne, casting my attention about the room. I couldn't spot Matt, and was somewhat relieved; after such a meeting, I felt a little overwhelmed.

I made my way through the crowd, trying to get out of the congestion and move towards the outer walls. Some strange feeling flooded me right then...I was elated, to be sure, to meet Bruce Wayne...and yet something about him and meeting him left me feeling rather disappointed. The Gotham tabloids and papers never masked their true feelings about the man; everyone thought he was a flake because he acted like one, threw his money around like one, didn't seem to value anything because anything could be replaced. He'd been polite enough, and dashing, but he was a flake, through and though, and I had hoped for something more. Something a little more...deep. Insightful. Something to quash everything the papers said.

Perhaps if we had had a longer conversation, something might have come up, but I could hardly hog the host of the party, and I knew deep inside it wouldn't have made a difference. I stood at the glass by myself and stared out the window at the neighbouring towers, alight in the blackness, listening to the crowd of people at my back, holding my flute of champagne and feeling like I'd rather let it spill onto the marble floor at my feet than drink another drop. I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.

The night was still relatively young; if I ever found Harvey Dent and got a chance to speak with him, it wouldn't be a total loss.

"Jane," came Matt's voice out of nowhere, and I turned and looked over my shoulder to see him approach with his cellphone pressed to his ear. He then held it out towards me. "Here, it's your sister."

I frowned and looked at the cellphone. "Oh, okay..."

Matt shook his head, exasperated. "Yeah, just take the phone, she's driving me nuts."

I smirked a little and took the cellphone from him, watching Matt wander off towards one of the back hallways, adjusting his cuffs, probably looking for the john. I pressed the cellphone to my ear. "Hey."

"Hey," came Amy's voice. "How's the party?"

I turned around and looked in on the crowd of Bruce Wayne's penthouse and shrugged my shoulders, determined not to let the disappointment seep into my voice. "Pretty awesome, not gonna lie," I crossed my arm under my bust and hooked it into my arm, closing myself off to the room of fakes, and I turned and looked out the window. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, y'know, I drew a bubble bath, made some cucumber water, was ready to delve into yet another baby book...all for nought because we're out of ice cream," I grinned; Amy hated ice cream, and yet she craved it relentlessly through her pregnancy. "I asked Matt to pick some up on the way home and he gave me this long-ass sigh."

I shrugged. "He's probably just trying to be cute, he's been at it all night," I said, looking back into the crowd. "Plus he's been circulating none-stop, he's probably exhausted," I ran a hand over my face, careful not to brush my eye makeup, and I looked out into the night. "What flavour ice cream do you want?"

"Chocolate peanut butter," she said, quite adamantly. "Oh, and if you remember, try to get some of that-"

A loud, sudden, and jarring noise cut her off, and made me start so suddenly I'm surprised I didn't drop the cellphone. I turned to look, and the room had gone silent, and the crowd was frozen in place. In the quiet, it took me only a second to realize what the noise was.

A shotgun blast.

/


End file.
